Unorthodox
by hippielicious
Summary: Javert has finally found someone who is as passionate about their career as he is. Javert X OC
1. Chapter 1

It was not an entirely unusual day for Javert. The prisoners had been complaining about the unusually cold summer weather today, but nothing else was amiss and as per usual Javert was now filling out the mountain of paperwork in his office. Javert could never say that running a prison of repute was his greatest aspiration in life, but he could not deny that he was very good at his job. A sudden knock on his door brought his mind out of its reflections on the day. "Come in."

The mayor entered in his usual fashion: practically bounding into the room. "What is it you want, Olivier?" The mayor had quite a few peculiarities including a strict insistence that he be addressed by his first name, and his obvious youth. Needless to say, the mayor and Javert had next to nothing in common, though that did not prevent the mayor from somehow liking Javert, to the latter's dismay.

"I actually have a request of you. You see, a gala is being thrown tonight and you are invited." The mayor flashed a boyish grin, indicating he thought his 'friend' would jump at the opportunity.

"I do not have time for such trivial matters. I am taking the midnight watch tonight and I need to be in top condition for that. I will not be attending," he said curtly.

Olivier gave a small, uncomfortable cough. "In truth, it is a little more than a request. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but you must come to this gala." All Olivier received for a response was a raised eyebrow and he sighed in exasperation. "You are aware of the ship that came into the port this morning?"

Javert nodded. "I was present when the prisoners brought it in."

"Well, you see, there was a very important passenger on that ship. His name is Bartholomew Pierce and he came over from England with his daughter. He is a brilliant doctor, who has made remarkable progress in the treatment and prevention of various diseases. Despite the slightly tense relations between our two countries, he decided to come here to do his research at the hospital, and has received a large grant to do so. Because of his importance and the contributions he will be making to the community, I am doing all in my power to ensure he is happy here."

It was rare to see Olivier so serious and this began to alarm Javert. There had to be some sort of catch. "Why would a doctor desire that I be at a gala?"

Now it was Olivier's turn to be put on edge. "Well, actually, it was not the doctor who requested you, but his daughter." He swallowed hard. "Also, she did not ask for you, but she enquired about the prisons and I may have said that an official from the prison would be attending. So you see I am in quite a sticky situation."

"Why should I help someone who has lied so boldly?"

"To spare the disappointment of a young woman?" Olivier suggested hopefully. Javert's stone hard face told him exactly the effect his suggestion had had: none at all. "Look, Javert, all you have to do is assign someone else to the midnight watch, because it is not going to hurt you to attend. I'm asserting my position of mayor over you."

Olivier was not intimidating whatsoever and for Javert, it was difficult to take Olivier seriously, especially considering he was more than ten years his junior, but he saw how important this was for the young man, god knew why. "Alright, I will attend, but please do not try to force her on me the entire evening. I will also be leaving early. I have to work tomorrow, unlike many who will also be attending the gala."

The mayor was so overjoyed, that he seemed to scarcely refrain from bouncing off the walls. "Javert, I swear to you that you have just made my day. Anything you want, I will get you. You are the absolute best friend a man could ask for."

"All I want is some peace and quiet, and please stop calling me your friend."

* * *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but as the evening began to close in, Javert was beginning to wonder if agreeing to attend the gala was not a monumental mistake.

Dressed in uniform, he entered the premises, receiving quite a few stares from others attending the ball. Of course he should have known that he would stick out like a sore thumb. It seemed that people of higher birth could immediately tell whether or not another person was on similar social standing. He sighed and found a place to sit while others around him danced and drank. Because he could not afford a headache in the morning, he refrained from doing the same. Unfortunately his quiet space was soon interrupted by a young woman. _Olivier must have sent her in my direction,_ he thought, and braced himself for a long tedious conversation with a silly young woman.

"I see I'm not the only one who feels out of place at these events," she said with a small smile. All Javert could do was sourly think to himself that she certainly didn't _look_ out of place at such an event. "My name is Vérène Pierce," she said, holding out her hand.

"My name is Javert." They shook hands, but for some reason her handshake was firm, just like a man's.

She sighed rather loudly. "I wish they wouldn't put up such a fuss. I'd much rather be working, or at home right now. This all just seems rather foolish."

Unfortunately, Javert could not help himself with his next outburst. "Working?" Most high class women – or even middle class women as her case may be – did not work. Besides, her father received enough money to support her, so why should she be working.

"Yes. I work at the hospital." Seeing his shocked look, she decided to extrapolate. "I realize that it is quite unorthodox, but I like to believe that I'm helpful. I grew up in a hospital, you see. My father had to raise me himself and because he was a doctor that usually meant that I spent my days in whatever hospital he was working in at the time. I've become quite an efficient nurse."

"You're right," he said. "That is unorthodox."

She flushed a little – embarrassed no doubt – but her gray eyes shone with excitement. "I love my job, and I need something to do with my time. Oh, that reminds me, I was told there would be an official from the prison her tonight, do you know where I could find him. We have business to discuss."

"You are speaking with him." So Olivier had not even told the girl who she would be meeting?

"I'm so terribly sorry." At this she became a little flustered and continued to apologize until Javert accepted her apologies.

"Now, Mademoiselle Pierce, what is it you wanted to discuss with me?"

"I only have a few questions. I promise that I won't waste any more of your evening. Do you know what the literacy rates are in your prison, sir?"

He was taken absolutely aback by her question. He had never once considered the question. "I'm afraid I could not answer. I have never asked any of the prisoners whether or not they were literate."

He was undoubtedly staring at her with a funny look, so once again she felt the need to explain herself to the prison official. "You see, I have a theory that literacy would keep people out of prisons, and prevent them from returning. The ability to read means that a person will have many more opportunities in life."

"Is that all, Mademoiselle?" He had absolutely no interest in her theories.

"I actually had just one other question. Would there be a way for me to teach some of the prisoners how to read, in order to test my theory?"

"Absolutely not. Those prisoners are all dangerous individuals. Besides which, there is nothing suitable for them to read."

"Surely, the bible at least could be approved. It really is important, Monsieur."

"I'm afraid I cannot oblige, Mademoiselle."

* * *

Vérène could not believe how foolish she had looked in front of Javert, or at least how foolish he had made her feel. She walked, defeated, towards the group of women whom she had been talking with before she had approached Javert. "Where did you go, Vérène?" asked the blond one.

"I went to talk to Monsieur Javert."

"What for? There is not a single person in this town who finds him agreeable."

"I wouldn't say that," huffed Olivier, as he joined the group. "I am friends with Javert and though he is standoffish, once you get to know him he is tolerable. What did he do you upset you, Mademoiselle?"

"I know that this is unorthodox, but I requested that he allow me to teach the illiterate prisoners how to read." At this, the women in the group stared at her, absolutely mortified.

"While that's a nice sentiment, are you sure that you want to spend your free time with prisoners. Some of them are bound to be dangerous." The dark-haired man was doing his best not to offend her, she could see.

"If there were a guard there, I imagine there wouldn't be any problems. And, if it would make Monsieur Javert feel more comfortable then he could prevent some of the more dangerous prisoners from attending the class."

Olivier was about to object again, but the determined look in her eyes prevented him from doing so. He sighed resignedly. It appeared he would have to appeal to Javert once again today. "I'll go talk to him and try to convince him."

Quickly swallowing the remainder of his strong wine and his pride, he made his way over to Javert. "I don't suppose you could change your mind about Vérène? You could assign a guard and prevent the more dangerous prisoners from attending," he tried, using her suggestions.

"Why are you so insistent?" Javert demanded. "She would get in the way. Besides which, I run a prison, where people are sent to be punished for their crimes – not to learn how to read." Javert then saw the sorrowful glance that Olivier sent towards her. "You mean to court her." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Olivier choked back his pride even further, as he often ended up doing in the presence of Javert. "It wouldn't hurt you to spend more time trying to accommodate the ladies, either. Neither of us is young anymore; I'm approaching thirty!" Seeing Javert's indignant look, he apologized. "Sorry. I forget that you are almost forty. All I am saying is that I'd like to get married soon and there aren't too many eligible ladies in this town." Javert stared at him. "Fine. There aren't many eligible ladies in this town who meet my standards for beauty. I want to marry a woman who is least on par with me in that respect."

Javert felt conflicted. He wanted to help the only man who half-considered him a friend, but no matter what he could not forget his duties at the prison. They were more important than anything else. Typically, he would not compromise, but as it was so important to Olivier and the mayor had never asked him for anything, he decided that compromise may be the best course of action. "She may come once a week – every Saturday – for two hours and teach a class. The only book she is allowed to use is the bible, there will be an armed guard, and I will make out a list of prisoners who are banned from attending tomorrow morning. If Mademoiselle Pierce cannot agree to these conditions then she is not allowed to step foot in the prison."

Javert had never seen a happier look cross Olivier's face, which was certainly quite an achievement. What was more astonishing was the look of excitement on Vérène's face when Olivier told her the news. Her face lit up, her grey eyes sparkled and Javert saw what Olivier had meant when he had commented on her attractiveness.

Javert had expected to make it through the rest of the night in peace and was very close to leaving the party when someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned around to see it was Vérène. "Thank you so much Monsieur. I need for you to know how much I appreciate your compromise, and I know it was difficult, but I promise you that there will be no trouble. I will see you at seven o'clock tomorrow morning." She then went back to the group of women clustered together in the corner.

He decided that agreeing to anything Olivier asked of him was most certainly a monumental mistake, looking back on how the night had ended.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning was unusually cold for late spring, biting at Vérène's cheeks and stinging her eyes. However, it was entirely worth it to be on the muddy, deserted streets leading up to the prison in order to be doing what she loved. She hadn't slept last night, choosing instead to bake scones - hiding them among the many boxes she had carried with her because she knew that Javert would never have let her. Now it was 6:30 in the morning and she was approaching the prison with more energy and happiness than any other sane person would.

"You're here," Javert muttered, letting her in. She had the distinct impression that he did not want her there but it hardly mattered.

"Yes, where will I be teaching?" she asked, her pink cheeks flushed with incredibly obvious excitement.

"This way." Javert could not understand her eagerness, and he had never seen a woman of Vérène's class walking around with her hair in such disarray, her skirt trailing mud, or with flour still on her hands from doing the baking herself. Despite his distaste for her, he did have to admire the gusto with which she set to work once she was brought into the drafty room.

By 7:00 sharp, all the illiterate prisoners who weren't a complete danger to themselves and others filed into the room and stared, jaws agape, as Vérène introduced herself and began to pass out tiny chalkboards that she had supplied herself and began teaching the alphabet. Leaving two armed guards, Javert set off to do his actual job. It was only once she was out from under his watchful gaze that she quickly brought out the scones and passed them out. "Javert never hears of this," she whispered to the guards as she passed them scones as well. Hearing the growling in their stomachs, she knew that Javert would never know.

When the clock finally struck 9:00, Vérène could hardly wait until next week. Every single one of them had shown promise and she had the best feeling that her theory would work. As she was packing up, she heard a shaky voice behind her. "Mademoiselle Pierce?" She turned to see one of the older prisoners, who had been one of the few struggling with the letters.

"Yes, Lazare?" she asked.

He looked down at his feet but before he could say anything, Javert was in the room. "Mademoiselle, I believe that you have taken up all the time allotted to you. We agreed upon two hours."

"Please, Javert, this will only take two minutes." Her voice was not demanding, or pleading, or any of the other types of requests that Javert had become immune to. It was asking for a favor. Her eyes told him that she knew very well that she was out of line, and had no business asking for it, but she would try anyway.

For inexplicable reasons, it had an incredible effect on Javert. He conceded. "You may have your two minutes, but I will monitor them."

Lazare the prisoner began shaking even harder, at the thought of speaking while Javert was in the room. Vérène grabbed his hand and said "Don't be afraid of Javert. He is the reason that this program even began." Although what she said was not really comforting, the tone of her voice and her infinite calm, once again, had the desired effect.

Lazare eventually stuttered out, "Would you be willing to write down the alphabet for me again so I can practice?"

She nodded and smiled as the alphabet was quickly jotted down on a chalkboard and handed to him. "Thank you so much, Mademoiselle. Now I may one day write a letter to my family." He quickly scuttled out of the room, leaving Vérène and Javert alone.

"You realize that they are all deceiving you. That man will probably steal the chalkboard, and I would not advise you to believe his story about writing to his family. If you want to keep yourself from getting hurt then you need to remember that all of these men are hardened criminals, capable of violence."

"I believe that they are all human beings, capable of change, when given an honest chance. I give everyone at least one. Even you, Javert," she said, handing him the last scone. He didn't need to know that she had brought them for everyone else. "It's a thank-you for letting me do this. I don't think that you quite comprehend how much it means to me, but know that I am truly grateful."

"And what exactly is my one chance?" he asked coldly.

"The benefit of the doubt," she said with only the slightest smirk on her face. "I'll see you tomorrow, Javert, and hopefully next Saturday as well. I promise I'll bring you another scone." She desperately hoped at some point she could prove him wrong about her theory and possibly prove that she was competent at her job. She doubted it would ever happen, though.

"Tomorrow?" He had not gotten quite as much sleep as he had hoped, and could not possibly think of any situation that would bring them together again until next Saturday.

"You are a religious man, are you not? I'll see you at church." Once again, she shook his hand before leaving, and once again, it was firm and self-assured. Javert had never understood the ways of women, but what he understood less was why this woman was so much like a man.

* * *

Vérène noticed her father fidgeting in his seat as the carriage took them to church the next morning. "What's bothering you?" she asked.

"I have a favor to ask you," he replied shakily.

"Oh?" She knew that her father's favors usually involved young, rich gentlemen who intended to court her.

"You have met the mayor? He's the one who helped you with your project at the prison, is he not?"

"Yes."

"He has asked whether or not you would court him and I believe that you should. Not only is he the mayor, but it was also very kind of him to stick his neck out for you."

Vérène was acutely aware that the only friend she had made since coming to France, Violette, had done nothing but stare longingly at Olivier the entire time she had been at the party. She also very much doubted that she and Olivier were romantically compatible. She was about to refuse the request and create some sort of terrible excuse, before her father pleaded with her once again.

"Please do this for me. I simply want you to have some security before I die and Olivier is a very secure man."

If her father had had anything but pure intentions, she would not have agreed to allow Olivier to court her, but he really was doing what he thought was best, and she had a very difficult time denying him anything. She sighed with exasperation and said, "I will court him, but I do not promise that I will agree to marry him."

During the sermon, she could feel the eyes of Olivier staring at her the entire time, drilling a hole into the back of her head and making the hairs on her neck stand on end unpleasantly. Afterwards, she pulled Violette into a side room to try and explain matters before they became even worse. "Violette, my father - without my knowing - has arranged for Olivier and me to court each other. I want you to know that this is not what I wished for, nor do I reciprocate any feelings for him."

The blonde looked back at the brunette in complete shock, with hurt screaming out of every pore in her body. "It's perfectly fine," she replied, though her voice rang with a numb quality to it.

"I am so terribly sorry. I will be sure that the courting does not last long. In fact, I will talk about nothing but the most horrible cases at the hospital in order to drive him away. Perhaps the foot fungus case that I saw on Friday morning would work." She was now trying desperately to keep the only friendship she was likely to make while in France.

Violette looked at Vérène with piercing green eyes that seemed to look right into her. "Alright. This may have an advantage. Do you think it would be possible for you to talk about me?"

"Yes, of course I will. And, when I inform Olivier that I no longer wish to court him, I can arrange things so that you are the person he goes to for consoling."

The two women both slipped outside, where most of the congregation was still socializing. Olivier quickly found Vérène and pulled her aside, asking her to court him. She agreed, but she didn't hear a single word he uttered after that. She saw her father staring happily at them, Violette staring almost reproachfully at them and then there was Javert. His face was a mask, but she felt like he was probably disapproving, as he was with everything else.

Somehow she had gotten herself roped into a long walk with Olivier and although he was nice, she was absolutely sure that he was not for her. Now, it was only a matter of convincing him that Violette was. Not only that, but she had to prove herself to Javert. And, she had to try not to break her father's heart as well as Olivier's as soon as she broke up with him. She had been in France less than a week and already had created a complicated web that she had to try not to trip over as she attempted to please everyone. She had hoped she might escape this when she left England.


End file.
